A house with no roof, no walls, no floor
by Bond.Jane
Summary: Short spoiler based vignette: Emma and Regina on the Jolly Roger. Henry was taken and his mothers join forces and hearts to find him and bring him back. This was why people allowed love into their lives, (...) smart, strong people fell in love because love was a home, a house with no walls, no roof, no floor to walk on. And yet, it was shelter like no other (...)


**Author's note:** I wanted a moment between them, something sweet and quiet and without angst. The conversation it italics was how it started. And then I ended up with this. *sigh*

Based on the promotional photos *the ship photos* for the season finale.

Unbetaed, so all mistakes are mine- for which I apologise in advance.

Much love

Jane

* * *

**A house with no roof, no walls, no floor**

_"Love sometimes wants to do us a great favour: to hold us upside down and shake out all the nonsense."_

_Hafiz of Persia_

_._

Again. They'd failed again. She could almost smell Henry, smell her child, his purity in the air. He'd been here. He had left them one more breadcrumb. He was okay. He was going to be okay. He was smart and resourceful and part her, part Charming: a survivor. Her Henry was a survivor. And knowing that made none of this any easier.

In the cold night, the Jolly Roger followed another star, steered towards another shore, another realm, another magic land out of so many they'd already been to and still, laden with hope, she was pulled down by despair.

And Emma, Emma came to stand there next to her, in her silence. Emma was like that. That obnoxious blond was the one person that understood, the one person that gave her space to find her balance, the one person that knew without being told that, sometimes, you have to pick yourself up on your own just to know that you can keep going, that you can keep doing this.

Emma, the one who had offered herself to her even when she had been pushed away.

_I will not fall in love with you. _Because it was ludicrous, wasn't it? She did not love. _I can't let myself. I won't._

Emma's hand on her back. Just there. No rubbing, no soothing, no words. They were the same stock: the kind that licks their own wounds and keeps right on standing.

_That's all right. I'll love you enough for the both of us._

She squeezed her eyes, stayed still. There was love, their own kind, in that hand on her back. And it made her throat tighten and hurt and burn because she didn't have to be alone if she didn't want to. This was Emma, the one that gave her a choice and her space. This was Emma.

_What is wrong with you? Why would you… care so much about me?_

The point was, she didn't have to anymore, she didn't have to stand alone or keep standing just out of habit. Emma knew her strength. Emma trusted her and relied on her.  
_What is wrong with you? Why can't you can't see why I would?_

"We'll find our son, Emma."

Emma slid her arms around her waist and touched her forehead to hers. "I know." The ship rocked and the waves slapped against the bow and their noise and fine mist filled the night.

_I don't want any love words. I don't want you. I don't belong to you. I don't belong to anyone._

"Yeah, we will. But I hate Neverland." Emma sighed and burrowed into her a little more.

_Okay… You don't need to. _And the hurt, the sorrow in those eyes had nearly broken her, nearly broken her resolve. _ I'll belong to you. All of me… a part if you don't want more, a small piece, whatever you want. Just please… have something._

She opened her raincoat and closed it around Emma's back. This was how she spoke her love: with her caring hands, with her strong arms and her old eyes that had seen too much. With her resilient legs and her solid feet. With her strength. There never seemed to be time for more, situation for more. No time for words. In truth… she was in love with Emma. Totally, absurdly, head-over-heals, heart-stopping, till death kind of in love, but she had no words, no courage.

She lowered her head onto Emma's shoulder and let the swinging of the ship lull them for a little, promise them everything was going to be okay. Here, right here, she could believe it, with Emma holding her. Holding onto her.

This, this right here was why people allowed love into their lives, why they dated, why they went through the whole complicated mess of love and why they committed to _forever_. Forget about sex or titles: smart, strong people fell in love- even if it put them in a prime position to be crushed, broken, destroyed with one word, one look- because love was a home, a house with no walls, no roof, no floor to walk on. And yet, it was shelter like no other, one that stood solid, defiant of storms, of disasters, of the wear and tear of life.

_Henry needs us, Regina. Both of us. _A hand had reached out to hers, to help her into the boat that would take them from Storybrooke. She had taken that hand and the love with it.

Love gets you through nights like this.

Emma's body was solid, warm against hers, giving her a fragility that asked for nothing in return; a strength she had only suspected. She had often wondered where Emma could have learnt to love like that, so easily, so uncomplicated.

This was the time. "I love you, Emma." She offered her love to the only person of valour enough to cut pieces of her own soul with knife and shape them into protection from the cold of a night like this. "I am so scared."

Dawn was hanging on the horizon, waiting. The world held its breath preparing to begin anew. Emma's sole reply was a sharp inhale. This was her Emma, the one that waited, patiently, for her to catch up. And it broke her heart anew- in the best possible way.


End file.
